


You raise me up

by viveriveniversumvivusvici55



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fluff, Ignatz likes strong women, Spoilers for Verdant Wind, no beta we die like Glenn, verdant wind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viveriveniversumvivusvici55/pseuds/viveriveniversumvivusvici55
Summary: Byleth has to carry her wounded students out of battle far too often.(Ignatz isn't sure if he's desperate for her to, or if it's a horrible idea.)Or rather, five times that Byleth picked up her students, and once that a student returned the favour.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Ignatz Victor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	You raise me up

**Author's Note:**

> My first Fire Emblem fic!
> 
> I still haven't done the Golden Deer route, I'm sorry, but I fell in love with Ignatz. And there's not enough of him.
> 
> (Also my love for Edelgard definitely crept into this fic. I'm sorry. Not really.)

Byleth has never been skilled with magic. It is one of her weak areas and she bristles whenever someone points that out. Jeralt, for all of his excellent skills that Leonie sings to the heavens about, is not a mage. Byleth has some talent. She can call down dark magic if pressed - of course she could - but when Lysithea asked, Byleth just shrugged and said that she had always preferred a blade to a spell. That means she has to get up close and personal with her enemies, true, but as all of the students of the Golden Deer have learned from watching their new professor fight...that's not a problem. Byleth is a damn force of nature with her blade. But now she has a flock of students to look after. Marianne works wonders with her healing magic, thanks to some extra tutoring with Manuela and Lady Rhea, but it isn’t always enough to save the students from the pain. They're good fighters, every last one of them willing to get their hands dirty for a good cause, but not good enough to come out of the battles unscathed. With a worried brow when they come back from the Red Canyon, Byleth marches right up to Professor Manuela and asks to be taught basic healing magic.

(It's hard - Byleth isn't a faithful person at heart - but it has become necessary far sooner than Byleth would like, and if there is anything that she can do to save the innocence in her students' eyes, then she is going to do it.)

The students are grateful, of course. Byleth has learned enough to heal small wounds and keep them from the brink of death, but it's not enough to heal the big injuries. No, not enough for the swords and lances that get stabbed into vulnerable places, the burns from magic spells that cover every limb, and not even enough to ease the pain she can see in every student's face. It's all Byleth can do to keep them from bleeding out. What she can do, though, is get them to someone who can heal them.

And she has the muscles for it.

* * *

1\. Felix

One would have expected that it would have been one of the archers to get badly injured first. Byleth had made it a priority to teach her students to counterattack when faced a melee opponent, but their opponents often snuck in a few blows. Ignatz has certainly felt enough of them, but he has always managed to struggle his way back to Marianne for healing, sometimes with an arm over the professor's shoulders.

No, the first student that Byleth had to carry about of battle is Felix.

Once she has earned his approval by kicking his ass every day for a week, Felix jumps ship from the Blue Lions. Or more specifically, he marches up to her, demands that she teach him so that he can be the best swordsman he can be, and promptly transfers into the Golden Deer. Claude is beyond proud of Byleth’s recruitment skills, especially when Sylvain Gautier follows shortly after (granted, that's mostly to hit on Byleth, but he won't let Felix leave him behind). They work hard, as hard as any of the Alliance students, and they follow Byleth into every battle. Felix, of course, runs at the front of every charge and gets even more banged up than Byleth does in his quest for glory.

After a fight with bandits in Garland moon leaves him with a sword in the side, Byleth sighs fondly, kneeling beside him. “What am I gonna do with you, Fraldarius?”

Felix groans in pain, but, in a very clear sign of how in pain he is, doesn't say anything.

Ignatz doesn’t know what he expects Byleth to do with Felix, but he certainly doesn’t expect her to pick him up and slide him over her back. Felix lets out a wretched sound, his eyes clenched shut and his teeth gritting from the pain, but his fingers knot around her neck when she coaxes them in place, his head falling against her shoulder. Once she’s certain that he’s secure, she puts her hands under his legs to secure him and stands. White magic creeps up his body from her hands to get to his wound, but she carries him back across the battlefield to where Marianne is waiting. Ignatz follows, bow at the ready in case they missed anyone, and marvels quietly at his professor’s strength. She has discarded her usual jacket for battle, so he can see her bare arms as they hold up a teenager in half armor. The muscles under the pale skin _strain_ with the effort, there is sweat on Byleth's brow, and she doesn't even grit her teeth. She just...lifts him.

Ignatz is a little hoarse at the sight.

~~(He tries not to imagine being carried in her arms.)~~

~~(He fails.)~~

By the time they get to Marianne, Felix is nearly unconscious. Marianne makes a concerned face and tries to pry him off as best as she can, but Felix will not let go. His fingers have locked tight around Byleth's neck. After a few futile efforts - because Raphael is already unconscious and resting in the cart that carried them to the battlefield, they end up having Byleth kneel on a clean patch of grass while Marianne heals Felix’s gash. Byleth doesn't flinch, just holding Felix in place, murmuring soothing words and patting Felix's thigh. When he finally passes out from the pain, his fingers unlock and Byleth has to hold him even tighter so he doesn't fall off. The conscious members of the Golden Deer house watch with amazement as Byleth eases him into the cart, tucking a blanket around him. Sylvain sits near him, worry painted across his face, and the rest of the group begin the steady walk back.

"Holy shit," Hilda murmurs, staring at Byleth's arms. 

"I am impressed with our professor's strength," Lorenz comments, although his eyes are very clearly locked on her arms. "I wonder if that is a once in a year experience."

Ignatz focuses very hard on walking in a straight line, trying not to let his thoughts get carried away because this is his _professor, he can't freak out over his professor's arms no matter how beautiful she is and how strong she is and STOP IT IGNATZ._

Claude grins a bit, rubbing his bandaged shoulder. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

And so starts the Golden Deer’s obsession with getting Byleth to carry them on their back.

~~ And Ignatz’s obsession with Byleth Eisner’s arms.  ~~

2\. Hilda

Ignatz had suspected that Hilda was going to try and plea her exhaustion and laziness as an excuse as to why Byleth should carry her on her back, but Byleth seems to be forcing Hilda to work harder, not taking laziness an excuse. As such, Hilda gets injured in training practice - fighting against Dedue usually ends up with someone injured - with an ugly axe slash across her leg. Ignatz drops his sketchbook and runs for the professor (who seems to wander around the monastery with no clear routine, so Ignatz finds her halfway from the cathedral to the entrance hall). Of course, Byleth rushes with him back to the training hall and, upon seeing the wound, sighs. “I said training axes, Hilda.”

“Those axes have the wrong weight,” Hilda pouts, although Ignatz has a feeling that the pout is covering up for how much pain she feels.

Dedue looks ashamed, hands pressed over the wound to keep it from bleeding, and murmurs, "My apologies, Hilda. I will insist that we use training axes from here on out."

Hilda doesn't even argue as Byleth heals up with the wound with ease. Dedue washes his hands with some of the water nearby, and Byleth carefully examines the area she has stitched together. “That should be alright for now, but I want Manuela to double-check.” Her voice is soft as she looks at Hilda. "And to give you something for the pain."

“...can you carry me?” Hilda asks with uncharacteristic softness. It doesn't even sound like a ploy - her voice wobbles and pain is written plainly across her face.

Byleth smiles, soft and tender, and nods. “But in my usual way. I’ll hurt your leg.”

Dedue helps lift Hilda up as Byleth gets onto one knee and, when Byleth pats her shoulders, settles Hilda onto Byleth's shoulders. Byleth shifts carefully, making sure that not too much is put on Hilda's bad leg, and rises to her feet. Ignatz's charcoal moves quickly across the paper to try and capture the image of Hilda’s pink pigtails bouncing above Byleth’s head, Byleth's strong legs holding her up as Hilda giggles on the way out.

Her leg turns out to be okay. Hilda spends the next week both using it as an excuse to get out of training exercises and telling everyone who will listen about how strong Professor Byleth is. Sylvain is obscenely jealous. 

3\. Marianne

Lysithea refuses to let Byleth carry her on principle because she is so tired of people treating her like a little kid and piggybacks definitely won't help with that image. She won't argue when she's unconscious or horribly in pain, but that is the only occasion she'll allow it. Raphael bemoans how he’s too big for Byleth to carry him, but Byleth gently cheers him up by saying “That means you might be able to give me one someday.”

(He does five years later, seating Byleth neatly on his shoulder and walking her around Garreg Mach like a parrot. Byleth blushes the whole time, rubbing the back of her neck with the hand that isn't frantically keeping herself stabilized, and Ignatz is so entranced that he has to paint it immediately.)

The fights don't stop, though. Even Hilda, lazy as she is, recognizes the need to keep training. Ignatz and Claude launch arrow after arrow into training dummies, trying to put more power behind every arrow and seeing how fast they can fire off another shot. Lysithea and Lorenz train together, throwing spell after spell at each other to learn new spells and hone their reflexes for dodging. Leonie and Sylvain train hard with their horses and lances, while Felix and Raphael charge at Byleth to try and take her down. Marianne heals them all afterward, learning more and more healing spells. Byleth's tenacity to hold onto her students and keep them safe seeps into every lesson.

(As hard as they become, no one brings it up. The more time they spend around their teacher, the more they all fall for her.)

But it's never enough to keep them from getting hurt on the battlefield.

It's in the basement of the church, staring down a man covered in armor in the very image of death, that Byleth nearly loses a student. Marianne, trying her best to stay out of range, fires off a quick Nosferatu at the Death Knight over the wall, hoping to avoid an attack in return. There is a deep laugh, malevolence dripping off of each sound, and the voice hums, "My turn," before a dark magic spell promptly slams into Marianne's chest. She freezes, eyes wide with pain, and her staff slips from her fingers, dropping to the floor with an echoing thud. Then her knees crumple and with a whimper of pain, Marianne sinks to the ground.

Byleth had just learned how to cry, Ignatz knows, but now he knows that she can scream. The sound rips through the chamber, every minion turning their head to hear it, and Byleth reaches back to swap her steel sword for the Sword of the Creator. 

Ignatz nocks an arrow to his bow and takes a shot at one of the soldiers blocking the path. "I'll stay here," he tells Byleth, voice shaking despite the firmness of his intent. "You get him, Professor."

It would be wrong to call the expression that Byleth makes a smile. No, no, that is a snarl wrapped in a grin on his professor's face as she charges ahead, Hilda hot on her heels. Ignatz just kneels beside Marianne's fallen body, anchoring his shot, and guards their fallen healer as best as he can while the sounds of violence fill the room. He fires arrow after arrow at the mages who try to take free shots at them. Each death makes his chest ache, the idea of ending another life, but it is all he can do. After going through all of their Vulneraries, the room is steadily cleared out, the Death Knight teleporting out before Byleth manages to sink her Sword of the Creator into the man's head. Then they rush back out, weapons sliding back into their sheaths, and Byleth is instantly on her knees in front of Marianne.

"Come on, little one," Byleth croons softly, resting her hand on the darkened mark on Marianne's chest. Her hand trembles with concern as Byleth pushes the white magic out of her fingers into the wound. "Stay with us yet."

She looks fragile, Ignatz thinks. Even more than normal. After several long, painful moments, the breath quickens a bit in Marianne's chest and her eyes flicker for a moment before drifting shut again. With a sigh of relief, Byleth slides her arms under Marianne's shoulders and knees, lifting her into a cradle hold. Raphael, bloodied as he is, helps pull Byleth to her feet. His mouth opens, offering to take Marianne from her, but Ignatz grabs Raphael's arm, shaking his head.

"It's her job," Ignatz says softly. _Her burden._

That makes Raphael hesitate, staring at their teacher, and he nods slowly. With that, Byleth starts walking out of the Holy Tomb, holding Marianne as tenderly as a newborn baby.

For once...no one is jealous of her. 

* * *

Five long years pass without the professor. It's more than a little rough, but they all grow stronger with the time. Ignatz's archery skills shift into that of a sniper, each arrow ripping through exposed flesh. There is still the faint ache in his chest with each death, but now that there is a cause behind each death (more so than just saving his own skin and that of his friends), it's not as hard. 

But then she comes back. 

_She comes back._

Claude takes it in stride somehow - after everything they have seen, it isn't the weirdest thing that has happened to them - and Raphael sweeps her up in a hug that lifts her off the ground, her legs flailing in the air. Byleth laughs, her eyes lighting up with delight, and everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief. Ignatz feels a knot in his chest unwind with the sight of her. She looks the same as she did when the ground opened up all those years ago. Same soft expression, same sturdy frame, same fiery sword sparking on her hip. He'd missed Byleth more than he'd care to admit. 

(She's even more beautiful than he remembered.)

"Hey professor," Sylvain grins. "You said you'd give me a ride on your back when everything falls to shit. I'd say it has."

Byleth rolls her eyes a bit as Raphael lowers her to the ground. "Everything appears to still be mostly together, Sylvain. We'll see how it goes."

"I'm so glad to see you, professor," Ignatz replies, voice soft.

Her eyes go soft. "I missed you too."

Oh, his heart flutters.

* * *

4\. Edelgard

Standing across the battlefield from Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg is one of the hardest things Ignatz has ever done. He can see her across the field, red armor shining in the sunlight, golden horns glinting. Ignatz's fingers curl tightly around his bow, taking a slow breath through his nose for courage. He casts a look off to the side to look at Byleth. She's standing beside Claude, hand resting on her sword, eyes scanning the battlefield, planning their next moves. It means more than Ignatz can say to have Byleth standing next to them on their side. Not just because he never would want to fight Byleth, but he can see how her presence affects their morale.

They can do this. Even against the Empire, they can do this.

Claude climbs on top of Barbarossa, the wyvern straining under its leather harness, and readies his bow. "This is going to be a rough fight, Teach."

"I know," she says softly. "Edelgard won't go down without a fight, and even if she realizes that she'll lose, she'll make sure our victory costs us."

That doesn't comfort anyone but Claude, whose shoulders straighten at the words. "Right - then let's get to it."

...

"Your ideals. I understand they're not far removed from my own. But without sufficient knowledge of this land's suffering, I can't entrust Fodlan to you."

Claude sighs. "Perhaps. I daresay it's true I don't fully understand the history of Fodlan. Still, I've seen many things in my life." He readies his bow. "Don't worry. I'll finish the job for you."

He shoots to kill, but Edelgard's axe moves quicker. It knocks him out of his wyvern, slamming him onto the ground, but Claude still manages to let his shot go. 

Byleth strides up to Edelgard, sword at the ready, standing over Claude's wounded body. She will always protect her students. Always. 

Edelgard sinks to her knees, holding herself up with her axe, watching Byleth with sharp eyes. "It looks as though my path will end here. My teacher...claim your victory."

Ignatz watches Byleth stand still, but he sees her shoulders shake a little. There's a slight hiccuping breath. 

_Of course...Edelgard was one of her students._

"Strike me down. You must!" Edelgard pleads. "Even now, across this land, people are killing each other. If you do not act now, this conflict...will go on forever. Your path lies across my grave. It is time for you to find the courage to walk it."

There's another hiccuping sound and Byleth wipes her face. "Edelgard..."

"If I must fall...let it be by your hand."

Ignatz can't take his eyes away as he hears the sound of Byleth's hand clench around her sword hilt. Then she walks forward, taking purposeful steps towards the fallen emperor, and draws her sword. Byleth's shoulders are still shaking.

Edelgard's crying too. "I wanted...to walk with you..."

Maybe because she's unable to hear it, the Sword of the Creator swings down, slicing through Edelgard's neck. There is a thump of a body hitting the ground, and Byleth stands frozen, blood dripping down her sword blade. Her shoulders still shake and her head hangs slightly. "Edelgard. Forgive me."

Ignatz says nothing. He steps forward, putting his bow on his back, and helps Claude to his feet. The duke slides his arm around Ignatz's shoulders, anchoring himself while he presses a hand to his dripping stomach. They watch as the Sword of the Creator slides into its scabbard and as Byleth kneels before the fallen emperor. They watch as Byleth cradles her to her chest like a newborn baby and stands up. Edelgard is draped over her arms, blood dripping from her wounds, and Byleth weeps along with them. Then she starts walking out of the palace, and Ignatz and Claude follow her out.

"This wasn't the conclusion I hoped for..." Claude says wistfully, staring at Edelgard's body. "Even though...I...never mind. It's over now."

It is. But at what cost?

They get the letter from Hubert, learn about the threat that slithers in the dark, congratulate themselves on this new success, but Ignatz can't see the end of a war. All he can see is his professor crying in silence, holding a student she couldn't save. 

5\. Ignatz

Ignatz has spent five years dreaming about Byleth's arms. Well, he's dreamed about Byleth in more ways than just that, but there is definitely a fantasy or two about her picking him up (and sometimes pinning him to the wall, mouth on his, sometimes with no clothes involved). However, for all the fights and dangers that they get into, he's never gotten the opportunity to be carried out of battle. He's limped out of battles with his arm over someone's shoulder - granted, most of the time that is Byleth's shoulder, because she worries about him - but that's it. She takes blows that they don't have to, she plans battles so that they don't come out covered in bandages, and she is adamant that no one jumps in front of her to take a blow meant for her. _I've lost too many people already, she tells him, and I will not lose any of you to this nightmare._

Even so, in the battle against the Ten Elites, the swamp air choking them as they move, Ignatz has to take the chance. Nemesis's Sword of the Creator arcs out, the spine blade stretching out into a chain and swinging hard at Byleth. Every soldier they've sent at Nemesis has been struck down in a single blow, and even though Byleth is strong...

Ignatz's feet move without conscious thought. He rushes forward, shoving Byleth behind him, and the blade slams into him. It burns, tearing into his midsection, and he screams in pain. But he holds his ground. He has to. 

Then the second blow comes, slamming down onto his shoulders, and the force of it slams him into the ground. The breath punches out of his lungs, the pain stripping him with any bit of thought, and he can't keep his eyes open. He thinks he hears a voice screaming his name, another voice laughing in the distance, and all he can think is 'worth it'.

When he comes to, he wakes to the soft tingle of white magic running across his skin. His eyes flutter open, the action taking more of his energy than he thought possible, and he slowly processes what he is feeling. Pain, of course. Magic stitching his wounds. Arms under his back and legs. The warmth of skin under his cheek.

_Byleth._

She is so warm, and while he doesn’t hear a proper heartbeat, the pulse he hears anyway is soothing.

“Professor, I-“ he starts to apologize, to justify what happened, but Byleth hushes him.

“It’s alright, Ignatz. We’re okay," she says softly. "Rest."

If he trusts anything in this world, he trusts Byleth. With her words, he lets himself relax. Her strong arms keep holding him. He thinks he feels her lips press against his forehead as he drifts off into sweet, magic-fueled unconsciousness. 

He wakes up in a cot in the medical tent with Byleth sitting next to him. She is holding his hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles, and she is looking at him with more than a little concern.

"Is it over?" He asks, throat dry and voice trembling with the effort of talking.

Byleth reaches over with her free hand and pours some water into a cup for him, which he gladly accepts. "Almost," she says softly. "The ten elites have been subdued. No one died. All that's left is Claude and I to fight Nemesis. One on one. Or rather, two on one."

Ignatz's eyes go wide. "But he's invincible!"

"Not anymore he's not," Byleth's smile is a little sharp. "And he wouldn't stand winning without facing me. We'll be okay."

"We can't let you go in alone!"

"I'm not letting anyone else take hits for me! Ignatz, you nearly _died!"_ Byleth's voice is ragged, desperate, and her hand squeezes his even tighter.

Looking into her eyes steals the retort from his lips. After a moment of hesitation, he manages, "You're not allowed to die, Professor."

She chuckles. "I'll do my best. We will end this, and then you and I need to have a long talk about jumping in front of me mid-battle."

"And other things," Ignatz mutters.

Byleth reaches over and strokes his cheek with a finger. Ignatz closes his eyes to savour the touch, never having imagined he'd feel something so tender from her. "And other things."

+1. Byleth

"Did you say what I think you said?"

Ignatz's heart is pounding in his ears, his eyes wide as he stares at Byleth. There's...no way he heard that right. Right? She didn't just say yes to his proposal? And yet, her eyes are light, affection visible in every crease of her face, in the flush spreading across her cheeks. 

"You're accepting me as your partner?" He can't believe it. "I asked you because I didn't want to live with the regret of not asking. I decided to be honest, expecting you to spurn me, and yet..."

Byleth nods, holding the ring he gave her, and she slides it onto her finger. The small green stone shines in the moonlight and Ignatz is trembling like a leaf at the sight of it.

"You said yes." At first, he doesn't quite believe his own words, his eyes, this exact moment when everything he has been hoping for suddenly clicks into place. Then his frantic excitement creeps into his words. "You said yes! You said-"

Byleth chuckles and takes his hands, squeezing them. "Get a hold of yourself, Ignatz. Breathe."

"Ah, right, sorry. Phew." He takes a moment to gather himself, the lightheadedness fading with each breath and the stroke of her thumb against his knuckles. "Almost fainted there."

"If you wanted me to sweep you off of your feet, you need only ask," she teases, green eyes twinkling. 

_Now, there's an idea._

Ignatz has grown strong in his own right. Drawing back a bow day after day for years has given him his own kind of strength. Delight fills his veins as he steps forward, picks her up, and spins her in a circle. "You said yes!" He practically sings it, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the Goddess Tower.

Byleth laughs, her voice ringing with delight, bracing her arms on his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist to anchor herself. "Ignatz!" She grips onto his jacket for support, cheeks darkening with a blush as they stagger a bit for support. He's not Raphael, used to carrying a person's weight around all the time. They stagger back until her back is against a wall with Ignatz as her only support, his hands shifting until he holds her up under her thighs. Her laughter slowly subsides as she slides her arms around his neck, one hand cupping the nape. 

"You sure, though? Absolutely positive?" He can't help but ask, the last of his insecurity creeping out.

Byleth smiles and digs through her pockets, holding on to his neck tightly with one hand. After a few seconds, she pulls out a velvet bag and draws out...a ring. A silver ring with purple and pink stone inlaid into it, and she _holds it out to him._ "I came with the same idea, Ignatz. I'm sure. If you weren't holding me up, I'd put it on you."

Another breath shakes its way out of Ignatz, smiling so hard that his face hurts. He's so happy that it feels...wrong, almost. But the woman he has fallen head over heels for just accepted his proposal to marry him, even without rank or title, and he's definitely awake. Arms trembling with the effort of holding her up, he tips his forehead to rest against hers, his glasses bumping a bit against her brow. "Then I promise to do whatever I can to be a respectable man worthy of you."

Both of Byleth's arms loop around his neck, the ring held loosely in her fingers, and she bumps her nose against his. "You already are, Ignatz."

Sweeter words he has never heard. 

His trembling arms finally give way and he lets go of Byleth, letting her legs hit the ground. She lets go of him only so she can take his hands, sliding her ring onto his finger and tucking the bag away.

Then she promptly picks him up in the same position and spins him around, touching their foreheads together. It is just as incredible as he imagines, and his breath is punched out in wonder. "Wow," he says, like an idiot, and Byleth grins at him. "Will you kiss me?" He asks.

She smiles, arms not even trembling, and murmurs against his lips, "It would be my pleasure."

And so they do, with Byleth supporting him as she always has.


End file.
